


we are all going forward (none of us are going back)

by ofmarmora



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25304227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofmarmora/pseuds/ofmarmora
Summary: The world is ending. There are creatures, monsters, aliens spilling out of a crack in the universe. This is a war, and Earth is not winning.There are as many stars as ever in the night sky. Shiro is gone. It’s just another Tuesday.Keith takes a slow, shuddering breath. If he’s not careful, he’ll shatter, and he can’t afford that. He thinks if he breaks again, he won’t be able to put himself back together.He’s bone-tired, exhausted in a way that isn’t just from the fight. At some point, Earth will run out of chances. He misses Shiro. He thinks maybe running out of chances wouldn’t be too terrible, if it could mean he could stop feeling like this.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 76





	1. i. leave me blurry

**Author's Note:**

> *crashes into fandom, several years late, waving around a pacific rim au* 
> 
> hi, i am new here. if there is one thing quarantine has given me, it is the time and energy to engage in Fandom (TM) once more. 
> 
> a good chunk of this is written and ready to go! no set day of the week for updates, we die like men. that being said, there will be regular updates! 
> 
> okay enough from me. hope you enjoy!! and yes, title & chapter titles are siken. sorry i'm like this.

_**PRESENT DAY**_

The world is ending. There are creatures, monsters, _aliens_ spilling out of a crack in the universe. This is a war, and Earth is not winning.

There are as many stars as ever in the night sky. Shiro is gone. It’s just another Tuesday.

Keith takes a slow, shuddering breath. If he’s not careful, he’ll shatter, and he can’t afford that. He thinks if he breaks again, he won’t be able to put himself back together. It’s worst when he’s alone, when he sits in the silence and feels, acutely, everything he’s missing. If Lance was here, Lance would be chattering away, keeping some of that at bay. But Lance isn’t here, Lance had done the smart thing and inhaled his meal before bidding Keith a good night and staggering to the barracks.

Keith idly stabs at his eggs. He hadn’t even wanted to stop by the mess hall. After a fight, the last thing he usually wants to do is eat, but Allura’s firm “There’s food waiting for you,” when they had peeled themselves out of their suits and trudged wearily from the Drivesuit Room had left no room for discussion.

He’s bone-tired, exhausted in a way that isn’t just from the fight. At some point, Earth will run out of chances. He misses Shiro. He thinks maybe running out of chances wouldn’t be too terrible, if it could mean he could stop feeling like this.

“You’re not meant to just push your food around, Keith,” a familiar voice says. Reproach and exasperation, and underneath that, concern.

Keith’s eyes snap up to meet icy blue ones.

“Lieutenant,” Keith says. He makes to stand, and Allura irritably waves a hand at him and sits. “Eat,” she says again, pointedly.

Keith feels himself flush. He takes a forkful of hash browns and shoves it in his mouth.

Allura nods, then looks thoughtful. “Keith,” she says. She sounds like she is choosing her words very carefully. “I’m asking you as a friend, outside of the chain of command.”

Keith raises his eyes again to hers, holds his gaze steady. He doesn’t feel steady. He hasn’t felt steady in nearly a year. Sometimes a loss can make the ground underneath you crumble, and then it’s impossible to regain footing when there’s nowhere solid to stand.

“Have you been feeling quite like yourself lately?” It’s a strange way to ask how he’s been doing, but Allura is prone to odd turns of phrase. She likes to mean exactly what she says, and vice versa.

Before, Keith would have had his hackles up. He would have found her wording condescending. Now, after months of Allura’s voice in his ear and coming to understand that she hated nothing more than losing any of her Rangers, he just feels empty. “I’m still here,” Keith says. It’s the best he can muster up at the moment. Allura wouldn’t appreciate a brush-off, and he’s not a good liar.

“It will have been one year next week,” she says. “I will give you personal leave if you require it.”

Keith almost laughs. That’s what this is about, then. “I won’t require it,” he says. He tries to gentle his tone. He’s grateful for the thought, but it stings.

“I will not have you risk yourself,” Allura says, a little sharper. “I would prefer that you and Lance take the week off-rotation.”

“I’ll hold it together, Commander,” Keith says.

She looks like she’s going to press, but she’s grown to trust him in the past year too. Keith can see the moment she decides to let him be. “The offer will remain open,” she says.

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith says. Her name, a peace offering.

She watches him for a moment longer, searching. Then she nods, stands gracefully. “Get some rest,” she says.

Keith nods. He watches her leave, then pushes his tray away and drops his head into his arms. He can’t blame Allura for being worried, and somewhere deep down he’s touched that she cares so much, but the foremost emotion thrumming through him is still just exhaustion.

Is exhaustion an emotion? It must be, because it’s all he feels.

He gives up on the food — he’ll eat tomorrow — and winces as he stands. Piloting is rough on the body, and he and Lance had gotten thrown around a bit more than they strictly prefer today. Tomorrow he’ll go back down to the hangar to survey the damage to their poor jaeger. She’d gotten them through, just like always, but by the end she had been sluggish to respond.

He’s running on autopilot as he heads back to his room, sifting through his memory of the fight while it’s still fresh. It’s obsessive, and there’s always going to be something he can do better, but he figures that as long as he keeps making it back in relative good health, he should keep on trying to improve with each time Lady Redemption is sent out. No point in making it easier on the kaiju.

He’s glad to reach his room, suddenly acutely aware of every bruise he’s acquired. He’ll be sore in the morning, he thinks wryly, as he tugs off his boots and changes into something comfortable.

At least he won’t have any nightmares. He never does after a kaiju event. Small mercies, he thinks, and is asleep nearly the second he closes his eyes.

* * *

The damage to Lady Red is suboptimal. It really had been a mess of a battle, even more so than usual. Kolivan and Antok’s jaeger is better, but barely.

Matt looks at him in mock despair. “It’s like you’re all _trying_ to make our lives difficult,” he says.

“Maybe if Red had boosters in her feet like we keep _asking_ ,” Keith starts, and is cut off by Pidge’s head poking up from over Lady Red’s shoulder joint.

“No,” she says. But she has a bit of a twinkle in her eye. Keith is willing to bet that they might not get flight ability this time around, but they’re only a few upgrades away from it. The Holt siblings and Hunk are the most brilliant mechanical engineers he knows, and there’s nothing they love more than a challenge.

Pidge clambers down, hops off the ladder and examines Keith with a frown. “Have you been to medical?”

She's always been quick to notice when any of them are hurt.

Keith opens his mouth to say he’s fine, then closes it again sheepishly as she glares.

“Stop,” she says. “I just gave Lance shit for not getting his shoulder looked taken care of. Go to medical. You’re limping.”

Keith casts a look towards Matt for help. Matt shrugs. “Come back after and you can help us work on her,” he offers.

“Fine,” Keith huffs.

Pidge _is_ right, and his hip is killing him, but as a rule, he tries to avoid medical. He passes Hunk on his way out of the hangar.

“Great job last night,” Hunk says, sincere as ever. “Did you and Lance make it out in one piece, mostly?”

“Mostly,” Keith affirms. “On my way to medical though.”

Hunk nods knowingly. “Pidge?”

“Pidge,” Keith says. He can’t help the displeasure leaking into his voice.

Hunk pats him on the shoulder with a sympathetic look. “Man, you’ll feel better after though. I’ll see you later?”

Keith vaguely grunts in agreement and sets off to medical to get his hip checked out.

* * *

The Medbay is mostly empty. Keith heads to the third floor, where he finds an annoyed Lance arguing with the doctor on duty, which is…

Keith groans inwardly. Dr. Slav is very good at what he does, and Keith is man enough to acknowledge that if he’s on death’s door he wants Slav putting his organs back where they’re supposed to go, but the rest of the time, Keith would prefer to avoid the man altogether.

“I’m telling you, it’s _fine_ ,” Lance says. He looks skyward, as if for patience. Nobody has noticed Keith in the entranceway, and Keith considers just backing back up to the elevators and hoping his hip heals on its own. If it gives out during the next kaiju event though, that could mean the end of both him and Lance, so he continues onward.

Lance sees him before Slav does, and his eyes light up. _Your turn_ , he mouths. “Doctor,” he says, saccharine sweet. “Ranger Kogane is here. We both got pretty banged up and I think I’m taken care of now.”

Keith can’t even bring himself to be angry. He would have done the same thing in Lance’s shoes, and resigns himself to at least an hour of Slav poking at him and nattering on about alternate realities and the likelihood of his death in each one.

* * *

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Keith manages to pry himself away from Slav. His hip is just about as good as new, but his patience has worn thin.

He’d like to blow off some energy sparring or running or _something_ , but Slav had given him strict orders to rest the next 24 hours to allow the nanobot treatment to fully take hold. He’s restless in a way that he often is after a stint in the Medbay and decides to go back to the hangar. Matt had told him to come back anyway, probably anticipating Keith’s inability to stay still.

When he gets there, it’s all hustle and bustle. Pidge isn’t working on Lady Red, but Matt is.

“Pidge and Hunk went to look at the Blade,” Matt explains.

Keith has to strain to hear him, because the upper half of his body is literally inside of Lady Red’s mechanical guts, muffling his voice.

“Yeah, last night was a tough one,” Keith says, thinking about their narrow margin of victory. There had been a heart-stopping moment when he’d thought Kolivan and Antok were done for. The Blade is a Mark II, but she’s still quick and Kolivan and Antok are veterans. All the same, it’s not usually that close. The kaiju are getting faster, he’s sure of it.

Matt emerges. His hair is in the haphazard ponytail he often puts it in when he’s working. “It looked rough,” he says, uncharacteristically serious. “Everyone was watching.”

“We’re fine,” Keith says. He tries for a smile.

“I think the kaiju are evolving,” Matt says, echoing Keith’s earlier thought. “We’ll try to work in some upgrades to all the jaegers to help, but I’m worried. I think I’m going to ask Pidge if she’s willing to go to the labs soon. Hunk and I can handle the teams here.”

Keith nods, thinking about it. Pidge, on top of being a brilliant engineer and mechanic, is also some sort of biochem prodigy from the way Ulaz talks about her. It makes sense to get her considerable brainpower behind cracking the code to how kaiju operate, especially since Matt and Hunk are more than capable of heading up the repair and maintenance of the Garrison’s jaegers. They need every fucking advantage they can get.

“That’s a good idea,” Keith says. “Less time for your side project, though.”

Matt’s gaze drifts to said side project. “I’ll make time,” he says firmly. “She’s coming along well.”

The jaeger in question is enormous, half again as big as Lotor and Acxa’s Mark IV. Born from the recovered scraps of Kerberos Black, both Matt and Pidge have been working on it nearly since — that day. Keith thinks it’s been good for them, a way to heal, to make something of their father’s death.

If Iverson has an issue with them using Garrison resources, he hasn’t said anything. Keith supposes it helps that when the new jaeger is finished, she’ll be the newest and most advanced in the world, an undeniable asset for the Garrison Shatterdome.

For now, the unnamed and unfinished jaeger towers over them.

Keith nods. If Matt says he’ll keep working on it, then he will. “Do you have anything I can help with?”

“Literally always,” Matt says. “You pilots are hard on these poor guys.”

“Fighting.” Keith says pointedly. “Alien. Behemoths.”

“Fair enough,” Matt says, laughing. He leads Keith to one of the legs, hands him a laser beam welder and a helmet and more or less sets him loose.

It feels good to get his hands dirty, so to speak. There’s something calming about the sparks flying as he puts his jaeger back together, piece by piece. Lady Red has kept them alive, and even though Keith knows better than to anthropomorphize a giant mecha, it still feels a little like giving back a fraction of what she gives to them.

He passes the rest of the day helping Matt with repairs on Lady Red, freeing up Pidge and Hunk to continue working exclusively on Occasus Blade. It’s physically draining work, especially since Keith isn’t exactly operating at a hundred percent.

When he finally steps away from Lady Red, it’s late enough that Matt is one of the only people left. He’s moved to working on the unnamed jaeger, and he’s so focused that he barely acknowledges Keith’s departure.

Keith heads to the barracks, feeling optimistic that he might sleep deeply enough to avoid nightmares.

* * *

Keith dreams. Just flashes of emotion — fear, misery, a quiet despair — and Shiro’s face, wide-eyed and strained around the mouth with pain. He wakes up sweating, Shiro’s name on his lips.

It’s been almost a year of this. Keith feels that by all rights, he ought to be used to this by now, but he isn’t. How do you get used to seeing the person you loved most in the world suffering horribly, night after night? What kind of cruel trick of the subconscious, he thinks bitterly.

The dreams have been getting more frequent. He never has them the night of a kaiju event, but other than that, it’s happening more often than it doesn’t. It’s doing nothing for his sleep patterns, he thinks unhappily.

He’s never needed as much sleep as some people, but routinely getting four hours a night if he’s lucky is pushing it. He purses his lips. It hasn’t become a problem yet, but if the dreams don’t start to ease up, he might have to talk to Allura about it. He’s well aware that sleep deprivation slows reflexes and impairs judgment, and when you’re fighting a kaiju every bit of speed counts. He’s not trying to get Lance killed in battle.

Maybe the upcoming anniversary of Kerberos Black’s defeat is fucking with his head, Keith thinks. Maybe the dreams will ease up when he’s not thinking about Shiro quite so much.

He doesn’t know that he’ll ever stop thinking about Shiro, that he’ll ever stop feeling the loss like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever stop wondering what they might have been.


	2. interlude: adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Keith have a necessary chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: keith and adam allude to an action keith makes in battle during which he is fully prepared and expecting to die. this is a callback to keith's sacrificial run at naxzela in vld s4, so that's the frame of mind keith was in here, as well.

**_TWO MONTHS POST-DISAPPEARANCE_ **

It’s not that he _wants_ to speak to Keith. Not many people do these days. The kid is tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, and there’s something fragile and terrible behind his eyes when you look at him.

It’s just that he can’t shake the feeling that he owes it to Takashi somehow, like he can make up for their second-to-last conversation by looking out for Keith now that Takashi can’t do it himself.

So he steels himself and approaches the kid the next time he sees him alone in the mess hall. Keith has the air of a wounded animal. He looks up suspiciously, and there’s a tension that runs through his body as Adam sits down across the table from him. He glares.

“Stand down, Keith,” Adam says, tired.

It’s the wrong thing to say. Keith says, low and furious, “Fuck you. You don’t even care.”

“I do care,” Adam says. It’s true, of course it is.

You don’t just stop loving someone. It’s not a switch you can flip on and off. They weren’t going to work, and maybe his timing was bad, but Adam just hadn’t seen the point in going through the motions. Takashi had wanted to keep trying. Takashi didn’t give up on very many things.

“You _left_ him,” Keith says. “He trusted you and he loved you and you left him.” His voice is rising. People are beginning to look over at them.

“I did,” Adam agrees. The words sting. Keith is so blunt. He’s forgotten how prickly Keith can be when he perceives any slight to his Shiro. “I did, and I’m sorry every day that I hurt him. We didn’t belong together but I was trying to do the right thing.”

“He _cried_ when you gave back the ring,” Keith says. He’s so angry. He’s almost shaking. His eyes are shining. He means for his words to cut. He means for his words to _hurt_. Adam lets the verbal blows land, absorbs them. They’re not undeserved.

“He loved you too,” Adam says. “He loved you, and he wouldn’t want you to keep doing this to yourself. It would kill him all over again.”

Keith mouth snaps shut. “Don’t tell me what he’d want,” he says, finally. But the bite is gone from his voice. He just sounds small.

Adam thinks about how young Keith is.

Thinks about how young Takashi was, and how he’ll never get any older.

“Look,” he says, urgently. Keith might never listen to him again, but he’s got to try and get through to him right now. Takashi would be devastated to know how his death was affecting Keith. “Takashi always told me you’d be the best Jaeger pilot that Earth has ever seen. He said that all the time. You’re going to make him proud, but not if you end up dead.”

“I wasn’t trying to die,” Keith says stiffly.

“You weren’t particularly making an effort to keep living with that stunt you pulled last week,” Adam counters.

Keith is silent. Bingo.

“You want to honor Takashi’s legacy? Keep fighting. Stay alive.” Adam holds his gaze until Keith gives a sharp, reluctant nod.

"He was right about you. You really are the best," Adam says. One last kindness. Then, because there's not much Adam can do for Takashi now except this, he adds, "I won't tell you to stay out of trouble, but at least get yourself out of it. For him."

He stands to leave, not expecting a response from Keith, but the kid surprises him. He usually does, Adam thinks.

"You stay alive too," he says, and his mouth twists into an approximation of a smile. Adam thinks that's the best he's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we've begun our short interludes! there are a handful of them; from different character povs and mostly set prior to the timeline of the main narrative. 
> 
> next chapter we'll be back to present day.


	3. ii. and fall toward me with your entire body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not possible. Keith doesn’t believe in God. Doesn’t believe in miracles. Fuck, most days he barely believes Earth will survive another month the way they’re going. But he’s always believed in Shiro.
> 
> The little spacecraft is sputtering. It can’t propel itself through the water. The lights continue to flash, and Keith thinks about an afternoon they’d spent years ago. Keith sprawled across Shiro’s bed and Shiro at his desk, talking animatedly about pilot signals used in the second World War. Keith had teased him about getting so excited about history, and a flush had spread across Shiro’s cheeks. 
> 
> The figure in the cockpit rips off his helmet. Keith would know him anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: a character has a panic attack in this chapter. in related news, shiro is BACK baby!

_**PRESENT DAY** _

They’re just about to start eating dinner when the alarm goes off. Pidge’s eyes go wide.

“It’s been less than a week,” Lance says numbly, even as he scrambles to his feet. “This is bullshit.”

For once, Keith agrees. They’ve never had two kaiju within a month before, much less a week. He curses under his breath as he looks at his food and stands.

“Pidge,” he says, frowning.

“I know,” she says. “This is concerning. I talked to Matt yesterday about splitting my time between jaeger repairs and research with Ulaz, but I think I’d better be in the labs full time if they’re going to start appearing randomly like this. Go, I know it’s Redemption and Emperor up today.”

Keith nods and dashes after Lance, who’s already out of the mess hall.

Suiting up is a quieter affair than usual. The tension in the air is palpable. Another kaiju so soon after the last is an unknown quantity, and it’s putting them all on edge. Even Lance seems worried, although he halfheartedly keeps up a steady stream of chatter that Keith tunes out.

Across the Drivesuit Room, Lotor and Acxa are going through the same process. Acxa looks grim, although to be fair, she usually does. Lotor is as preternaturally calm as always.

“Lady Redemption dropping in first,” Allura says as Keith and Lance secure their helmets. “Emperor Sincline will follow. We’ll keep Occasus Blade on standby, since this is a highly irregular event.”

She waits for everyone to give an affirmative, and once she receives it from each of them in turn, she says, “Fight well, make us proud. We’ll see you on the other side.”

Keith takes a deep breath. Lance offers him a fist. He bumps it with his own.

At Allura’s go-ahead, they initiate the Handshake and prepare for transport.

* * *

Crashing into the sea is the one thing Keith will never get tired of. He lets a little bit of his excitement float through the bond, and gets faint exasperation and fondness back from Lance. Then, _Do you see a giant ugly alien abomination anywhere?_

 _Nope,_ Keith thinks.

 _Was afraid you’d say that_ , Lance thinks. _Guess we’d better get down there._

This part is less fun. Descending into the deep ocean is nerve-wracking at the best of times, and when you’re sweeping your searchlight through water that the sun has never reached to look for an alien monster, it’s even worse.

 _Wait, what is_ that _,_ Lance thinks at Keith.

 _I think we have bigger problems_ , he sends back, a little snappy. He’d finally caught sight of the kaiju that had emerged, and it was enormous. Keith is pretty sure he had seen wings. That does not bode well. Even with Lotor and Acxa it’s going to be tough. He fervently wishes that Pidge and Matt had gotten around to outfitting Lady Red with rocket boosters.

 _No, really, look_ , Lance thinks, insistent.

Exasperated, Keith turns his attention to whatever Lance is looking at.

There’s a little craft shooting through the breach, but the second it enters their dimension, it sputters to a halt. Not built for water, Keith thinks in the back of his mind with the part of his brain that’s still somehow in working order. The rest of his brain is focused on what the craft is doing.

All the lights on the exterior are flashing. It’s rocking from side to side, rapid shallow movements. Distress signals, Keith thinks. Classic military aircraft distress signals. They don’t get used much anymore. Advancements in tech have rendered them more or less useless, but Shiro had taught Keith them all anyway. Had taught Keith the old hand signals too, just because he was a nerd about history like that.

The pilot in the cockpit is human-sized. They’re wearing a helmet. They bring one closed fist to the forehead, bring it away with four fingers extended. Oxygen system malfunction, Keith thinks, and can hear the blood rushing through his ears.

It’s not possible. Keith doesn’t believe in God. Doesn’t believe in miracles. Fuck, most days he barely believes Earth will survive another month the way they’re going. But he’s always believed in Shiro.

The little spacecraft is sputtering. It can’t propel itself through the water. The lights continue to flash, and Keith thinks about an afternoon they’d spent years ago, Keith sprawled across Shiro’s bed and Shiro at his desk, talking animatedly about pilot signals used in the second World War. Keith had teased him about getting so excited about history, and a flush had spread across Shiro’s cheeks.

The figure in the cockpit rips off his helmet. Keith would know him anywhere.

Allura’s voice comes through the comm. “Lady Redemption, pursue the target.”

Keith’s heart is in his throat. He ignores the order.

 _Please,_ he thinks at Lance, desperate. _Please please I’ve never asked for anything it’s Shiro it’s Shiro I fucking know it’s him please we have to go get him that ship isn’t made for water I know there’s a kaiju and I know we’ve got a job but Lance please nothing matters if I can’t save him right now it’s him I know it —_

Lance swears. He chances a look at the kaiju currently rising out of the ocean, heading towards the mainland. There’s a city just off the coast, there are so many innocents, there’s nothing standing between those civilians and this monster except them.

Keith would sacrifice them all in a second to save Shiro. Maybe it’s him that’s the monster. He’ll be a monster, he’ll be anything he needs to be if Shiro’s life depends on it.

 _Please_ , he begs Lance again.

Keith can feel him wavering. Can feel his mindset shift.

“Lieutenant, we’ll need back-up,” Lance says. The set of his mouth is grim. He’s weighed the lives of everyone in the city behind them and allowed Keith to persuade him into risking their doom for one man.

Keith will have to apologize later. For now, he sends a steady stream of gratitude.

He doesn’t even wait for Allura’s confirmation before he turns Lady Red away from the kaiju and back towards the deep ocean. He can hear the controlled anger in her voice as she says crisply, “Emperor Sincline disengaging transport now. They will be in position shortly. Lady Redemption, you are _needed_ for the defense of the coastline.”

It isn’t a good sign when Allura drops her contractions entirely. Keith can feel Lance’s internal flinch. _Sorry sorry sorry_ he thinks at him. Anxiety claws at him. What if they’re too late? What if water gets into the little craft?

It’s stopped rocking. Shiro — he knows it’s Shiro — is limp in his seat. Lack of oxygen, Keith thinks. He’s never been this scared in his life. It must be leaking over the neural connection, because Lance is projecting feelings of _calm the fuck down and focus_ at him. He’s usually more disciplined about what he allows through to Lance, but right now he can’t, he just can’t.

They’re almost close enough to the craft to reach out now.

“Holy shit _,”_ Lance breathes. “It’s him. Lady Redemption to Garrison Shatterdome, do you copy?”

Keith takes one more step forward, extends Lady Red’s right hand.

“We copy,” Allura says coolly.

Lady Red pulls the craft in close. It’s relatively small, clearly meant for just one passenger.

“We found Ranger Shirogane in an alien vessel. He’s alive and we’re retrieving him now,” Lance says.

Keith takes a brief second to be glad Lance is talking, because he doesn’t think he’s capable of forming words at the moment.

“Could you repeat that, Redemption?” Allura’s voice is tense, now.

“It’s Shiro,” Lance says, dropping pretenses of formality. “There was this little spaceship that got through the breach after the kaiju, and somehow Keith knew it was Shiro.”

A new voice enters the fray. “This is very touching, but could you bring Shirogane to the surface then come help with — ” A crash cuts Acxa off.

“Occasus Blade has been deployed,” Allura says. She sounds shaken, or as shaken as she ever does. “Sincline, can you hold for twenty minutes?”

“We will,” Acxa says shortly.

“Good,” Allura says, all business again. “I’ll scramble the Strike team to support, they’ll be there in five. Redemption, back to base. Immediately.”

“On our way, Commander,” Lance says aloud. To Keith, _Are you good? We gotta get back._

Keith pulls himself together. He’s hasn’t chased the R.A.B.I.T. or gotten jarred out of the Drift since his first sim, and he isn’t going to start now, not with such precious cargo. _Let’s go_.

They begin to rise, pausing for a few minutes every hundred feet or so, although as Lance pointed out as they started, Shiro’d made it from one dimension to another and hadn’t appeared affected by that atmospheric change or been crushed by the pressure of being on the ocean floor, so he’s not likely to get the bends from a rapid ascent. Still, better to be safe than sorry.

With their frequent stops, it seems like an eternity before they reach the surface. Keith pulls the alien craft away from them and thinks, _Can you open this thing at all? We need to get air circulating in there_.

Jaegers aren’t built for delicate work. Lance gives it a good try, but in the end the best he can manage is puncturing a hole in the hull. _That’ll have to do_ , he says. _The faster we get back the faster we can get Shiro to medical_.

Keith nods and looks skyward for their Jumphawk team.

“Lady Redemption, Lieutenant Commander McClain and her unit is headed your way,” Allura says before Keith can ask.

Next to him, some tension leaves Lance. “Late to pick me up again, V, it’s like I’m back in middle school,” Lance says.

“I have _never_ been late,” Veronica McClain says, in the long-suffering tone of someone who has had to grow up with Lance. “Lady Redemption, prepare for lock and lift.”

Keith thinks that if he was feeling anything but shock right now, he might feel relief as the Jumphawk team rigs up Lady Red for transport. And when Veronica gives the word to begin the flight back to the Garrison, Keith finally begins to think that maybe, end of the world or not, things just might be okay if Shiro is back.

* * *

By the time they’ve made it back to the Garrison and landed, Keith thinks he might be hyperventilating again.

Lance keeps giving him worried looks, which in turn is making Keith even more anxious. This isn’t like him, but it isn’t a normal day.

The second that he and Lance have successfully set the little alien ship — and Shiro — safely on the ground, Keith terminates the neural handshake and yanks off his helmet. He scrambles out of Lady Red’s Conn-Pod, not even bothering to wait to dock back at the Drivesuit Room and choosing instead to exit through the escape hatch.

It’s quick work getting to the ground. Keith is familiar with the foot and handholds he’ll need on his way down thanks to all the time he spends helping Pidge and Matt with upgrades and repairs, and he’s at the alien craft in seconds.

“Shiro,” he breathes. “Shiro.”

He’s barely aware of Hunk at his side, and Matt yelling for something that can help them get into the cockpit. 

It’s excruciating. Now that he’s right next to the ship, he can see Shiro clearly. He’s terribly still except for the rise and fall of his chest. There’s a new scar across his nose, and his bangs are bleached white, and he’s got —

He’s got a bulky prosthetic arm.

Keith can’t think. There’s a roaring in his ears again, like when he’d first realized Shiro was in the ship. He can’t even consider the implications of such clear proof of alien, _other_ intelligence coming through the breach when instead he’s thinking of what Shiro might have endured for over a year while Keith was sitting pretty at the Garrison, not even looking, not even considering that Shiro might have survived. Keith can’t catch his breath. Shiro was alive all along, and he was in _trouble_ , and Keith didn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Hey,” a voice says. It sounds like it’s coming from very far away.

Keith jumps when a hand falls on his shoulder.

“Keith, sit down. You look like you’re going to fall over.”

Keith looks over to the speaker. He blinks. It’s Hunk, looking concerned and so, so sympathetic. He gently guides Keith to a sitting position. Keith goes without argument. Distantly he thinks that Hunk is right, and that his knees probably were about to give out.

“C’mon,” Hunk says, patient and firm. “You’ll be okay. Breathe with me, yeah?”

Keith _can’t_. He can feel that he’s spiraling, is furious that he’s spiraling, and then there’s another presence at his side.

“Keith, look at me,” a new voice says.

Keith does, and finds Matt Holt crouching in front of him. “Head between your knees,” Matt says.

Keith does it. This is familiar, Matt coaching him through a panic attack, and just that fact helps. He begins to take deeper breaths.

“Good,” Matt says. “Keep going.” He’s backed off of Keith’s space a little, and that helps too. When he sees that Keith is nearly breathing normally again, he says, “You back with us?”

Keith lifts his head and nods. His heart is still pattering away a hundred miles an hour, but at least he can think straight.

“Good,” Matt says. “Because Pidge is working on getting that ship pried open and Shiro’s gonna need you, okay?”

Keith nods, and grimaces. “Sorry,” he says.

“Nope,” Hunk says, back to his cheery self now that Keith is feeling better. There’s a slightly strained quality to his smile, but even Hunk can’t shake off the tension that’s thick in the air as the hangar fills up with spectators. “You don’t get to apologize for that.”

“Hunk’s right,” Matt agrees. “This shit is hard enough without your, uh, Shiro unexpectedly coming back from the dead.You’re allowed to lose it once in a while, and more often that that if you need.” He stands and offers Keith a hand up.

Keith takes it and is glad to find that he’s steadier on his feet than he had been a few minutes earlier.

“Thanks,” he says.

Matt smiles. “Anytime. Kinda brings me back to the old days, actually.”

“Fuck you,” Keith says without any heat. A reluctant grin plays across his lips.

“Let’s go see if they’ve gotten Shiro out yet, yeah?” Matt holds his gaze, as if checking that Keith really is alright.

“Yeah,” Keith says. There’s still a sharp guilt sitting heavy in his chest, but he sets it aside to deal with at a later date and follows Matt back across the hangar.

They have to push their way through the crowd that’s gathered. Shiro had been the Garrison Shatterdome’s darling, generally well-known and well-liked to boot, and word travels fast in an ecosystem like this one. It makes sense that people would want to see for themselves. Nobody had ever — to their knowledge — gone into the breach until Kerberos Black fell, and certainly nobody has come back.

Cognitively, Keith knows all this. He finds himself bristling all the same. They’re vultures, he thinks viciously, keenly aware that he’s being unfair. He just _knows_ that Shiro would have hated this. Shiro had hated all the attention even back then, although he was gracious to a fault about it.

“It’s part of the gig,” he’d say to Keith with a too-bright smile that never reached his eyes.

That’s the Shiro that most of these people knew, Keith thinks. The Shiro that was set on a pedestal, the straight-laced, handsome Jaeger Pilot with a winning smile who was shaping up to be the best the world had ever seen.

They didn’t know that Shiro was even better than that, wholly human underneath the glittering facade the Garrison and the Pan Pacific Defense Corps had so carefully crafted. Shiro was kind to his bones and obstinate as hell. He had a terrible fucking sense of humor and a wild side that he tried to keep repressed. He was a goddamn slob when he had the chance and often laughed that joining the military was just an effort to get some cleaning habits to stick. Keith had grieved over every part of Shiro when Kerberos Black had fallen, and all these faces in the crowd had mourned for a symbol, not the person.

This miraculous return from supposed death will just thrust him even more into the spotlight, Keith realizes with a pang as they finally reach the alien ship. It’s been blocked off to keep people at a distance, but Marshal Iverson takes one look at him and Matt both and doesn’t say a word when they duck under the barrier with Hunk close behind.

Allura must have ceded the control room to one of the other officers, because she’s here and standing with her arms wrapped around herself in a rare display of tension. Lance is next to her, wide-eyed and silent for once. Hunk goes to him right away, draping a comforting arm around his shoulder.

True to Matt’s word, Pidge is just getting the door to the alien ship pried open. She cries out in triumph as the dangerous-looking contraption she’s clearly just jigsawed together finally separates the door from the ship. The waiting medical team rushes into the craft, and Pidge climbs down from her jury-rigged jaws of life and practically throws herself into her brother’s arms.

Keith looks again at what feels like the entire population of the Garrison surrounding them, and suddenly needs them _gone_ before Shiro is extracted from the ship, unconscious or otherwise. So much of Shiro’s life and death has been in the public eye, and Keith wants to protect what little privacy he can.

“Allura,” he says, trying not to sound like he’s begging. “Allura, can we clear the hangar?”

“Oh,” she says, looking around. She’s blinking, like she hadn’t even noticed. She probably hadn’t, Keith thinks. She’d been so laser focused on the rescue effort. “Oh, you’re right.”

She goes over to Iverson, whispers to him urgently, and Keith feels his shoulders drop in relief as Iverson immediately begins the process of removing all non-essential personnel from the area with stern orders to keep their mouths shut until an official status report and press release can be drafted. It doesn’t take long — Iverson’s booming voice carries, and at the end of the day no matter how curious you are about a long-lost Ranger returning from the dead, it’s not worth the wrath of the marshal.

That done, Keith smiles wanly at Allura in thanks and stands silently away from the others, eyes glued to the movement in the cockpit of the ship. Shiro appears to be awake now, and talking to the medics. It’s all Keith can do to not immediately rush to his side, but he doesn’t want to get in the way if Shiro is hurt.

In the end, Shiro exits the ship under his own power. He’s always been so damn stubborn, Keith thinks, and stops breathing when Shiro looks his way as he passes with the Garrison medics clustered around him. “Keith,” he says, soft.

Keith is lost. He bows his head to hide the tears that are threatening to fall.

Resisting Shiro is like resisting gravity. He can’t do it. He lifts his eyes to Shiro, drinks in the sight of him. He’s lost weight and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Maybe he hasn’t. There’s a wariness in the set of his mouth that was never there before, but his eyes are as kind as ever. Keith wants so badly to hold him, feel the solid weight of Shiro’s body against his.

“I knew you’d see me,” Shiro says.

Keith steps forward. The medics part to let him through. Maybe I’m dreaming, Keith thinks faintly, as he reaches for Shiro.

Shiro flinches. It’s barely noticeable, and he recovers quickly, but Keith saw. Keith has spent so long looking at Shiro and learning Shiro. He’s spent so many sleepless nights dredging up precious memories during the long year Shiro was gone, and now he can’t bring himself to look away from Shiro here, alive. Keith _knows_ Shiro, and he saw him flinch before holding himself still, and so Keith freezes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry.” He’s sorry for so much. He should’ve looked for Shiro. He should’ve known he was alive. He should’ve gone into the breach after him.

Shiro steps into Keith’s space, pulls him into a rough hug. “I knew you would see me,” he repeats.

Keith gives into the embrace. He tucks his head into Shiro’s chest and listens for the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.Keith starts to tremble. Shiro is warm and solid and _alive_. And he needs to go to medical, Keith remembers, and forces himself to pull away.

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith says, voice rough with emotion.

“It’s good to be back,” Shiro says, soft but fervent. His eyes are bright.

One of the medics — Keith isn’t sure of her name — interrupts politely. She sounds apologetic. “Ranger Kogane, he should really go to medical. You can of course come to the waiting area.”

“Right,” Keith says. “Of course.”

He steps away from Shiro. Shiro smiles at him and then smiles over Keith’s shoulder, presumably to the rest of their friends. Who had all witnessed that little reunion, Keith realizes belatedly, and feels his cheeks color.

“We’ll save the rest of the hugs for after you’ve been medically cleared,” Allura says graciously. With Shiro seemingly out of immediate danger, she’s relaxed considerably. “It really is wonderful to see you, Shiro.”

“You have no idea,” Shiro says, with feeling. And then he’s being swept away by the medics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am on twitter [here](twitter.com/ofmarmora) and on tumblr [here](ethari.tumblr.com)! as always, thank you for reading!


	4. interlude: matt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Holt, Emotional Support Mechanical Engineer (TM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, this chapter we take another Short Detour. sorry for the gap between posting i got Distracted by The Old Guard and also work things.
> 
> next chapter... Much Keith and Shiro for the soul. :)

_**PRE-DISAPPEARANCE OF SAM HOLT & TAKASHI SHIROGANE** _

Matt’s best friend has a boyfriend, a rapidly-developing crush on a new pilot candidate, and no idea that said crush is forming. Matt has an inordinate amount of code he needs to write tonight, not nearly enough emotional bandwidth for the trouble he sees brewing on the horizon, and a headache. The headache is directly related to both of the former.

He presses his fingers to his temple, breathes through his nose.

“Okay, Shiro,” he says. “I want to meet your Keith.”

Shiro flushes. “He’s not _my_ Keith,” he protests.

Matt sighs. “Well, I want to meet him anyway.”

“I told him to come over after he finished his Drivesuit sim today,” Shiro admits. “So if you stick around, you’ll get to meet him. You’ll like him a lot.”

* * *

Matt _does_ like Keith. Keith is all sharp edges, but he softens around Shiro and by extension, Matt. He reminds Matt a bit of Pidge. She’s also selective about her people.

He thinks Keith might be a little lonely — certainly he doesn’t seem to have many friends within his recruit class — and finds himself seeking Keith out even when Shiro isn’t around. Keith is good company. He doesn’t need to fill silence with pointless chatter, but he speaks up when he’s got something to say, and he’s always quick to get to the point.

He’s also far and away the best candidate to actually make it into a jaeger they’ve had all year. Not every class yields viable pilots, and Matt thinks if they’re lucky they might get two out of this one: Keith and a lanky boy with cool blue eyes who never stops running his mouth.

Keith, Matt is learning, has the best reflexes of anyone he’s ever met, a near single-minded determination to get into a jaeger, and a hopeless weakness for one Takashi Shirogane.

* * *

Adam breaks up with Shiro on a quiet Sunday. They're in one of those lulls with low breach activity. There's been a distance between the two of them lately that hasn't been lost on Matt.

Something has been fractured since Shiro graduated the Academy and was given a prestigious jaeger assignment. Matt tries to see the best in people so he tells himself it’s not envy that’s dug its way into Shiro and Adam’s relationship. In any case, he really doesn’t think it’s that. Adam is brilliant in his own right, and their diverging career paths had never mattered before.

If Matt is honest, he thinks it’s got more to do with Adam and Shiro wanting different things. Adam wants retirement from the military, and a civilian lifestyle deep in the mainland, and probably a white picket fence. He wants safety and security. Shiro wants to continue throwing himself at kaiju despite great risk of personal injury like there’s no tomorrow — and to be fair, there won’t be a tomorrow if the kaiju aren’t stopped. Shiro also wants Keith, although Matt’s pretty sure he still doesn’t know that. He’ll figure it out, probably.

Anyway, it’s not Matt’s place to play matchmaker with those two. Right now it’s his place to console his best friend, who’s currently curled up in his desk chair and morosely staring at the ring he’s holding between his fingers.

“I want you to know,” Matt says. “That you are the very best person I know, and you’re likely the very best person I ever _will_ know, and if you ever tell anyone in the future that those words came from my lips, I will deny it.”

Shiro’s lips quirk into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I think it’s time to break out the Johnnie Walker,” Matt says, already digging through his sock drawer for the handle he keeps for emergencies. If this isn’t an emergency, Matt isn’t sure what would qualify. He should probably text Keith. Keith is good with Shiro.

“You don’t need to get the Johnnie Walker,” Shiro protests, but it’s easy to tell that his heart’s not in it.

Matt doesn’t have any glasses in his room. Ah, well. They will drink straight from the bottle like the classy men they are.

He hands the whiskey to Shiro. Shiro just holds it for a moment, sighs, then takes a swig.

“Attaboy,” Matt says.

* * *

How do you come to terms with the fact that — Okay, so. Imagine you’re just a kid, and your dad is a literal superhero. Your dad literally gets to drive a big robot and beat up alien monsters. So he’s not home a whole lot, but that’s okay because you see him on the television sometimes and he calls on the phone a lot because he loves to talk to you and your sister. And when you’re old enough, you follow your dad’s footsteps, but veer off a bit because you realize that you’re less interested in beating up monsters than you are in building cool new robots to do it. And you meet your best friend, and he’s got a sense of humor to match yours, and he’s terribly competent, and he’s here because he wanted to make a difference in the best way he knew how, and when he becomes your father’s new regular partner, you think about how this is putting all of your eggs in one basket to a terrifying degree.

And so every time the kaiju alarm sounds, your heart lives in your throat until the jaegers are back and you can see your father and your best friend with your own eyes. Sometimes they’re hurt, but that’s okay. That’s just part of this. But they always, always come back.

Until they don’t.

And all you’re left with is a handful of your best friend’s worldly possessions, because he left them to you, and the stupid, fucking pointless thought that you’d forgotten to text your father good luck like you always, always do before this last fight, because you had been so absorbed in an upgrade you had almost finished on a new jaeger. And now you’ll never text him again.

* * *

The funeral day dawns with a storm on the horizon. It’s unremarkable.

* * *

Okay, it’s not unremarkable, but it doesn’t measure up to the people it’s meant to honor. Pidge cries quiet, and that hurts more than anything, his sister tucked into his side and trembling like a leaf. She’s grown up so much since he’s been at the Garrison, Matt thinks. Before he knows it she’s going to save the world with that brain of hers. Katie’s a firecracker, a force to be reckoned with, but right now she’s just a girl who’s lost her father. Matt makes eye contact with his mom over Katie’s head.

Colleen is dry-eyed, because she doesn’t believe in showing too much of herself to the cameras, and there are cameras everywhere. Sam Holt and Takashi Shirogane had been, very publicly, war heroes. The PPDC is, if anything, very committed to putting up a shiny front.

Matt isn’t worried too much about his mom. Colleen is made of steel. Colleen had turned away from the military to their great chagrin, because she could have been one hell of an asset with her biogenetic know-how. His concern lies mainly with Katie. Katie, and Keith.

Keith, who is standing in the back of the room against the wall and looking too pale, and wan, and whose eyes are blank.

Matt bites his lip.

Keith doesn’t have anyone here. Matt gently extricates himself from Katie, gives his mother an apologetic glance, and ducks away from the family section.

“Hey,” Matt says, and his voice cracks on the word.

Keith looks at him. His expression crumples. Matt doesn’t hesitate. He knows how to do this. He’s spent seventeen years of his life being a big brother. He reaches out and pulls Keith into a hug. Keith is tense for a moment, and then all the fight leaves him in a rush. He buries his face in Matt’s shoulder.

“Come sit with us,” Matt says. Keith is shaking, a little. “You’re family.”

“I’m not,” Keith rasps out.

“You are,” Matt says, insistent. “If you don’t want to be up front, then you don’t have to come, but don’t think it’s because you’re not welcome.”

Keith nods once and can’t seem to manage to draw in a breath. He’s deathly pale. This time, Matt’s instincts kick in from years of friendship with Shiro. He spares a moment to consider the thought that between Katie and Shiro, he has been primed to be Keith’s, like, emotional support mechanical engineer or something. Well. There are worse things to be.

“Keith,” Matt says, quietly. He’s peripherally aware of some four-star general speaking at the podium now. Matt should get back to his mother and sister, but he needs to take care of Keith first. “Sit down.”

Keith slides down the wall he’s been leaning on. His eyes are huge and frightened. Matt reaches out and gently grasps the nape of his neck, guides his head between his knees. He presses Keith’s hand to his chest and says, “Hey, hey, breathe with me. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. C’mon, kid.”

Matt counts to five as he breathes in, counts to five again as he breathes out. Keith has always been quick on the draw, and now that he’s got something to focus on, Matt can see some of the tension ebb away. Color slowly returns to Keith’s face as he catches his breath, and Matt lets Keith pull away and tip his head against the wall.

“Fuck,” Keith says, a little hoarse. He closes his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Matt says, firm. He shuffles over to sit next to Keith instead of in front of him. “That the first time you’ve had an anxiety attack?”

Keith gives a terse nod.

“Okay,” Matt says. “If it happens again and I’m not around, you sit and you count to five as you breathe in and out. Something that helped —” Matt stumbles, but bulls on ahead. “Something that helped Shiro was to touch something around him, the floor, the wall, whatever he had in his pocket. Said it grounded him, helped him focus.”

“Thanks,” Keith whispers. His eyes are still closed. Matt wants to give him another hug. He wants a lot of things. He wants his dad back and he wants Shiro to knock on his door with takeout and a pile of paperwork and he wants to be anywhere in the world but here right now. He can’t have that, but he throws an arm over Keith’s shoulders and pulls him to his side. Keith doesn’t resist, which is how Matt knows the kid is feeling awful.

“What do I do now,” Keith says, so softly that Matt has to strain to hear even with Keith’s head on his shoulder. Matt's not stupid. Over the last months, he's watched Keith build a home here at the Dome with Shiro at its center, Shiro at its heart.

Matt doesn’t know what they do now. He doesn’t know what comes next. He has precisely zero answers, not for himself and not for Keith.“I don’t know,” he says, honest. He tries to be honest in general, but especially with Keith, who’s always preferred hard truths over placation. “But we’ll wing it. We’ll figure it out.”

He steals a glance at Keith, who has the approximation of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” Keith says, and Matt is heartened to hear a note of steel. “We will.”


	5. iii. the landscape after cruelty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had. Shiro brings good news for Matt. Keith isn't letting Shiro out of his sight ever again, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been meaning to post this and just got sidetracked by Life, so here's another chapter to get us all back on track. mind the updated tags, please! there is nothing graphic and there won't be in the future either, but be mindful when you're reading the part where allura and matt come to visit shiro in the medbay!

_**PRESENT DAY, HOURS AFTER SHIRO'S RETURN** _

“You should try to get some sleep,” Allura says. She has the air of someone who knows they are going to be ignored.

Keith just looks at her.

“Don’t make me make that an order,” she says, but it’s clear she doesn’t mean it. Keith would disobey and then get written up for insubordination and they both know it.

“I can’t,” Keith says. His voice is shaking a little. “Don’t make me.”

“I’ll send up some food for you,” Allura says. She’s offering him a compromise. She’s being gentle with him, handling him like broken glass.

Keith thinks he’s grateful for it.

She pauses in the doorway. “He’s strong, Keith. He’ll make it.”

Keith presses his lips together. Nods. Allura is right. His vitals are strong, and he’s only asleep now because they sedated him as a precaution. Garrison Medical — namely, Slav — had thought that it wouldn’t do Shiro any good to be awake during a thorough examination of the alien tech attached to his body.

Keith hadn’t liked it, but he had seen that Slav was making sense and was doing it out of kindness to Shiro as much as anything. And Shiro himself had given a curt nod, although the set of his mouth belied a certain trepidation. He hadn’t asked Keith to stay, but he hadn’t asked him to leave either, so Keith had been glued to his side until he slipped into unconsciousness.

And now Shiro is here in front of him lying unnaturally still and pale, still not awake, and Keith can’t take his eyes off of him.

Maybe it’s creepy? Keith wonders for a fleeting moment, before a voice in his head — sounding uncannily like Pidge — scolds him for being stupid. Of course he’s uneasy about letting Shiro out of his sight. He’s believed Shiro was dead for over a year, and a few hours is nothing against months of grieving and loss.

Lost in his thoughts, Keith actually jumps when Hunk and Matt enter the room.

“Brought you dinner. Breakfast? It’s 4 in the morning. I’m not sure,” Hunk says. He thrusts a Tupperware container towards Keith. Keith accepts it, along with a fork that Hunk also offers.

“Allura told us you haven’t had a chance to eat,” Matt says. He musters a tired grin, but it’s subdued by Matt Holt standards. Keith is about to chalk it up to the stressful day they’ve all had when it hits him like a kaiju blow to the chest. Commander Holt had been the other casualty in the Kerberos Black incident.

“Oh, fuck,” Keith says, horrified at himself. “Matt, I —”

He trails off. How do you tell someone you’ve completely forgotten about their presumed dead father?

Matt shakes his head quickly. “No, Keith, it’s okay.”

“Well,” Hunk says. “That’s generous, Matt.” But his voice is mild, and he pats Keith on the knee to take the sting out of his words.

“It’s okay,” Matt insists. “It’s Shiro, and it’s you. You’ve always been kind of weird about each other.”

Keith flushes. Thinks about a rushed kiss in Shiro’s room, Shiro’s hand lingering on his waist before he dashed off to get his Drivesuit on. He’d promised they’d pick up where they left off when he came back, and then he hadn’t come back.

“We’re not _weird_ about each other,” Keith protests.

Matt just _looks_ at him. “You Ghost-Drifted once after your first Handshake,” he says. “That’s not normal, Keith.”

This, Keith thinks, is not the right time to tell Matt that it hadn’t been just once. This whole time, Keith had just thought that his nightmares were a product of his subconscious trying to deal with Shiro’s death. Now he’s got a suspicion that they’d never stopped Ghost-Drifting. It’s been Shiro all along.

Out loud, he just says, “I’m sorry anyway. I should’ve remembered.”

“Apology accepted,” Matt says, easy as anything. “Now please eat, or Allura will have all of our heads.”

Hunk nods.

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” Keith says. “I, I couldn’t leave him.”

“Weird about each other,” Matt repeats with a roll of his eyes. He steals a potato from the Tupperware, pops it into his mouth. “Hunk, this is fucking magic.”

Hunk beams. “I figured you wouldn’t be tempted by congealed pasta from the mess hall, so I snuck into the kitchen,” he explains to Keith.

“Thanks,” Keith says, cheeks warm. Hunk doles out food as love and care, and it should stop taking him by surprise when Hunk shows up with an offering anytime he thinks Keith isn’t taking care of himself properly.

Hunk and Matt stay until Keith has finished dinner, leaving after extracting a promise from Keith that he'll text them when Shiro wakes.

* * *

Shiro fights his way to consciousness in a flurry of movement, shooting into a sitting position and nearly ripping an IV drip out. Keith is on his feet instantly.

“Shiro,” he says. “Shiro, it’s me. You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re in the Garrison Medbay.”

Shiro stops trying to get out of the bed. He’s breathing hard. There’s barely suppressed panic in his eyes, and it’s like he’s looking right through Keith.

“You’re safe,” Keith says again, voice low. He doesn’t move.

Recognition flickers in Shiro’s eyes. “Keith?” he asks, hoarse.

“Hey, old-timer,” Keith says. He can’t help the smile that breaks across his face.

Shiro relaxes, sinks back into his pillow. “Not that much older than you,” he says, falling easily into his old refrain.

Keith could collapse from the relief.He’s sure it’s all over his face, because Shiro adds, “I’m good, Keith,” and offers a smile. It’s sweet and familiar and just like him to be worried about how Keith is feeling when he’s the one in a hospital bed, newly returned from a year in god knows what kind of hell. Keith has _missed_ him.

He wants to reach out, to brush the hair out of Shiro’s face. He’s tired enough for inhibitions to be lowered and it’s just the two of them in the room, so he does, making sure to move slowly.

Shiro’s breath catches, and he leans a little bit into Keith’s hand before Keith reluctantly pulls away.

"The others were all in here earlier," Keith says. "I told them I'd let them know when you woke up."

"What time is it?" Shiro runs a hand through his hair. His left hand, Keith notes. His human one. Shiro's right-handed, but he's clearly not comfortable with the prosthetic.

"It's just past five in the morning," Keith says. "You just missed Matt and Hunk."

Shiro's face falls. "Sam," he says. "I left him."

"He's alive," Keith says, relieved. Well, Shiro is alive. It makes sense.

"I should've tried harder to bring him with me," Shiro whispers. "But I had a chance and I took it without thinking." There's a stark shame in his eyes, and Keith can't bear it.

"I'm glad you did," he says, fierce. He doesn't care if it makes him selfish. He's always been selfish about Shiro. "I'm glad you're here, no matter what."

Shiro looks at him with too much gratitude. Keith doesn't deserve it, not for voicing such an obvious truth. He carefully reaches for Shiro's right hand. Shiro stills as Keith entwines his fingers with the prosthetic. The hand _feels_ like skin, or at least something approximating it, but there's no give to it, like there's metal underneath. It's warm, and he looks up at Shiro in surprise when Shiro squeezes his hand.

"I have a normal range of motion and sensitivity in the hand," Shiro says. "Less on the rest of the arm, but. But it's better than nothing." Keith turns the hand over in his and strokes it with his thumb absently.

"Does it hurt you?" Keith nods at Shiro's shoulder, where the arm meets flesh.

Shiro doesn't answer for a moment, then allows, "It's not comfortable, but I can handle it." In Shiro-speak, that's a loud and clear yes. Then, probably seeing the look on Keith's face, adds quickly, "Don't mention it to the others. I've got it under control."

Keith's terrible at saying no to Shiro. "If it gets worse," he says, and trails off.

"I'll tell you if it gets bad," Shiro says. They both know he won't.

Keith sighs. "The others will be by soon. Get a little rest while you can."

* * *

The way Shiro pulls himself together when Keith tells him that the Allura and Matt are on their way to come see him is a marvel. He's always been good at this, Keith remembers, transforming himself from just Shiro to Ranger Takashi Shirogane, hero and defender of Earth.

By the time Matt bursts into the room, Allura following more sedately, Shiro is the picture of serenity. A far cry from just an hour ago, when he’d been radiating distress.

“Fuck,” Matt says, raw. “Shiro.”

“Oh, they did,” Shiro says, wry.

A stunned silence falls over them.

Shiro’s always had a morbid sense of humor, Keith thinks, a little hysterically.

Allura is staring at him, wide-eyed. Matt grits out, “Shiro.”

Shiro has gone pale. He looks very much like he would like to sink through the floor.

Keith is ice cold in the way he is when he’s genuinely angry, but right now dealing with his emotions takes a backseat to getting that terrible blank look off of Shiro’s face. He slips his hand into Shiro’s. Shiro latches onto it like a drowning man, and he turns his face to Keith. He’s barely repressing panic. Shiro tugs at Keith and Keith goes, moving from his chair to the bed. There’s not much room, but there’s enough for Keith to sit. He’s got his back turned to the others, so he doesn’t pay them any mind as he reaches out with the hand that’s not holding Shiro’s and brushes his bangs away from his forehead tenderly. Shiro leans into the touch, eyes closed.

He thinks briefly about how this must look to Matt and Allura, but he can’t bring himself to worry about that. Matt and Allura both know how he feels, and in any case they both know to keep their mouths shut.

Shiro’s breathing evens out quickly. Even now, he’s quick to compose himself, and when he lifts his head to look at Matt and Allura, he offers a shaky smile. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to dump that on you guys like that.” He doesn’t let go of Keith’s hand.

“We’re here however you need us,” Matt says roughly. “We missed you.”

Allura’s eyes are shining with unshed tears, but her voice is steady. “You can’t imagine how glad we were to find out that you were alive.” She hesitates, then continues, “And I want to apologize, Shiro. We should have looked harder, we should not have assumed you were dead. Forgive me. I called off the search when we realized you had fallen through.”

“No, Allura. You couldn’t have known,” Shiro says, gentle. “There’s nothing to forgive. You had no reason to think that we were alive.”

“We?” Matt says, so softly that they can barely hear him.

Shiro looks at Matt. “Sam was alive when I escaped,” he says. His guilt is written in the tense lines of his body. Keith gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “I left him,” he says in a whisper. “Matt, I’m sorry.”

Matt shakes his head. “You did the right thing,” he says, firm. “Come on, Shiro. Did you want to leave him there?”

“No,” Shiro breaths. “Of course not.”

“And if you had gone back for him?” Matt demands.

“I probably wouldn’t have gotten out,” Shiro admits.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to throw away your chance to escape,” Matt says. “You know it and I know it. And now you’re back, and we know that he —” His voice breaks. “We know that he was alive as recently as two days ago.”

Shiro nods in confirmation. "Time feels different there, though," he says. He still looks far too ashamed.

Matt gets to his feet hurriedly, swiping at his eyes. “Okay, that's good to know. I have to go talk to Katie,” he says. He pauses, as if grappling with himself. He forges onward. “And Shiro, I wouldn’t have lasted a year out there. I don’t know what everything you’ve gone through and I’ve got a feeling I don’t want to know, but I’m glad you made it back. I think you’re the bravest person I know, and I think Dad would say that too.”

Matt slips out of the room before a stunned Shiro can reply.

Allura says kindly, “Shiro, I spoke to Dr. Slav on my way in and he says they’re comfortable releasing you to your own recognizance if you’d be more comfortable.”

Shiro nods. “I would,” he says.

“I’ll go get someone to sign you out,” Allura says. “And we’ll have you back in your room with as little fuss as possible.”

“My room,” Shiro says, a complicated expression playing across his features. “You left my room?”

“We cleaned it out after you, well. After.” Allura says. “But nobody has been assigned to it since, and if you want it it’s yours again. If you’d like a new room, we will of course arrange that.”

“No,” Shiro says quickly. “I want my room. Thank you.” His lips curve into a small, genuine smile. Keith’s heart thuds in his chest to see it.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a brand new fandom twitter which you can find [here](twitter.com/ofmarmora) if you would like to talk about this fic! i have. really so much useless side information for this 'verse.


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